Safecracker
by nobloodnofoul
Summary: Edward holds the key to his family's success but when he encounters Bella Swan, he has to make a choice. Will it be his family, his profession or true love? ExB.AH.OOC.
1. Prologue

**Chapter 1 – Prologue **

**

* * *

  
**

I know this sounds absurd,  
but this is what I heard  
I know you must be lonely  
Underneath, you're insecure  
but you can rest assured  
I know you're not the only

It's always such a shame  
To slander your own name  
In a struggle to survive  
You're everyone's best friend  
You're abandoned in the end  
And you never felt alive

It's hard to climb a waterfall  
I never realized  
That there's a part inside us all  
That tumbles from the sky  
When we watch a dreamer die

Do you remember when  
All of this began,  
And you never turned around?  
**It must be hard to find again  
The place where you had been  
When you finally hit the ground**

And everyone believes  
And no one ever sees  
Your struggle to survive  
**And no one understands  
Who's there to hold your hand  
When you fight to stay alive**

It's hard to climb a waterfall  
I never realized  
**That there's a part inside us all  
That tumbles from the sky  
When we watch a dreamer die**

**And I don't ever want to  
Well, I don't ever want to  
_I don't ever want to die like you_**

_Dreamer Dies -_ **Autovein**

* * *

**BPOV**

There were noises. Although they were loud, everything seemed muffled and far off. The lights were bright against my eyes; it felt like I hadn't opened them for days." I tried to turn my neck but it was held fast to something. My heart was thudding in my ears and it sounded like the beach at La Push. The waves crashing against the cliffs and for a moment, I was taken back to when I was fifteen and holding Jacob's hand while we jumped. Suddenly my stomach lurched and I opened my eyes to see the face of a man leaning over me. He was holding a bag of clear liquid over my head. Somewhere in my brain I recognized the bag as an IV, the line down and out of my view. There was jumbling and tilting. I was lying on something hard and lumpy, it crinkled when I shifted. The loose pressure on my chest and thighs was beginning to worry me.

_What the hell is going on? What is happening?_

The noises around me were getting louder and softer at the same time. They pulsed in and out as if someone had their hand on the volume switch. I was in a vehicle, no, an ambulance. The sounds of multiple sirens were fading leaving only the sound of the siren above me, it was leading me. I felt like I was supposed to be looking for something. I've forgotten something important. What is that? My brain went into a fuddled frenzy as I stared intently at the lights on the ceiling of the truck.

_Keys, purse, phone, watch. Keys, purse, phone, watch. Books, notepads, pens. Fill gas tank, pay electric, buy more milk. Call Jacob, take Saturday off for play. Buy new copy of Pride and Prejudice. Keys, Purse, Phone, Watch._

_Green, Amber, Silver, Red. Red. Green, Red. Red was wrong. Why was the red wrong? Green, Amber, Silver, why red? What is Green? Eyes. Eyes are green. The red was between the green… Edward._

_Edward…_

_EDWARD!_

The pressure on my neck followed my lurch against the straps of the gurney as I tried to get up. I fell back and cringed into my side. Something was wrong; very, very wrong. Voices were shouting in and out of my mind. I glanced over at the EMT beside me as he grabbed the radio on his shoulder and began to speak.

"Caucasian female, twenty-three years old, gunshot wound to the shoulder and lower abdomen. Bullets are contained. No, I repeat, NO through and through wounds, condition is critical…she's fading fast. Our ETA is 10 minutes."

Sounds of static and murmuring faded out into the background and my eyes slipped shut. Fuzzy memories of a dark room came to mind. A foyer with marble floors and high vaulted ceilings, it was so familiar. Red dots were swimming in my vision. My gut was telling me the red dots were bad. My memories became hazy again and I didn't have the energy to try and figure anything out. The doors of the ambulance opened and I was jarred out of the confines of the truck's bay. The sun was bright outside and my vision turned red behind my eyelids as I tried to squeeze them shut against the onslaught of light. There were people in scrubs running beside me, and soon I was in an elevator with people touching and grabbing my body. I felt stabs of pain around my sides and my arms. When I finally opened my eyes again, I saw the face of a kind woman next to me. She smiled and said something I couldn't quite grasp before I felt a sharp prick on my arm.

Edward. They were going to kill him. I took his place. I smiled. Or at least I had the idea of smiling. He was safe. I knew it, I could feel it. He had to be; he wasn't here. Suddenly the memories came at me like a heavy blanket. Work, lunch, Mike, my paycheck, the bank… Edward; it all came back to me.

After a few moments of clothing being cut away from my body and my arms being poked and prodded, I began to feel heavy and numb. And right before the shadows consumed me, I thought…

_Edward, where are you?_

The darkness was my answer.

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I know you're all like, damn that was short. But it's the prologue. First chapter is written and being beta'd right now so keep ur knickers on. I'll post really soon kk? This is different from SB...obviously. If you liked it let me know. If you didnt let me know. If you dont care, dont review. hahahaha.

_Leave Me Some Love..._


	2. Blink And You'll Miss It

**Chapter 2 –****BELLA –****Blink and You'll miss it.**

* * *

Save me

I've gotta stop my mind  
Working overtime  
It's driving me insane  
It will not let me live  
Always so negative  
It's become my enemy

Save Me

Why would I think such things  
Crazy thoughts have quick wings  
Gaining momentum fast  
One minute I am fine  
The next I've lost my mind  
To a fake fantasy

And none of these  
Thoughts are real  
So why is it that I feel  
So cut up and so bad  
I need to take control  
Coz my mind is on a roll  
And it isn't listening to me

Save me

Mirror mirror on the wall  
Who's the dumbest of them all  
Insecurities keep growing  
Wasted energies are flowing  
Anger, pain and sadness beckon  
Panic sets in in a second  
Be aware it's just your mind  
And you can stop it anytime

Save me

Ok so here we go  
If it works I'll let you know  
One two three I say stop...

**_Save Me - Jem_**

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_Nature is not affected by finance. If someone offered you ten thousand dollars to let them touch your eyeball without blinking, you would never collect the money. At the very last moment, Nature would force you to blink your eye. Nature will protect her own._

_Dick Gregory (1932 - )_

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**BPOV**

There is no such noise on this planet that is as irritating as the sound of an alarm clock going off on a Saturday. There is no such feeling that is worse than knowing that it is Saturday but you still have to work.

None, what-so-ever.

My hand flapped around the nightstand doing it's damndest to find the offending contraption of plastic that was created solely to remind me that my life sucks.

Eventually, its off. This pleases me. However, another horrible fact has come to my attention. The sun was clearly created to annoy the ever loving shit out of me. It was made far too bright, and way too hot. It has a vile way about it, which causes it to bleed around my shitty curtains and of course, find the _one fucking spot_ on the bed where my eyes just happen to be resting.

Fuck the alarm clock, the sun wins this round.

Getting out of bed before ten A.M. on a Saturday is heinous. Going to work sucks balls. Being stuck in a never ending loop like the one I am in, well you get the point…

I battle my responsible side in the shower, begging it for ten more minutes of hot pounding spray to no avail. I know I can't waste time now. I have no leeway after hitting snooze four times. Breakfast is a short affair. So short, it never happens.

I'm dressed out in a pair of comfy jeans, a soft gray t-shirt, my knock-off Wal-Mart brand Birkenstocks, and a coat in less than five minutes. It takes me a total of half an hour to shower, dress, and walk out of my apartment.

I fish for the pack of Camel's in my purse and slide out a promising stick of glorified cancer. The nicotine high I feel makes the journey to work not so bad.

When I walk through the doors of the library I am conscience of the fact that I probably reek of cigarette smoke. I don't really care.

My fingers are twitching in my coat pocket and I feel tired of being here already. Don't get me wrong, I love the library. I just loved it more before I started working here.

After I clock in and stow my purse away in the employee lounge, I'm on my way to the book cart. It's so full it has stacks of books on top of rows of books, there are books crammed into every available spot. This has 'Jessica' written all over it. I roll my eyes and my neck, hoping to alleviate the stress building in me. It hasn't even been an hour and I already want another smoke to calm my nerves.

By noon the cart has a sizable dent in it and my stomach is growling. I get a bag of chips out of the vending machine in the lobby and munch on my Cheez-Its with little enthusiasm.

My eyes are blankly fixed on a spot on the wall when the door to the lounge opens and Mike sticks his spikey head in.

I resist the urge to blink or cringe. I know what's coming already.

"Hey, Izzy!"

God I hate that nickname.

Mike seemed to make it his Saturday ritual to ask me out. For some reason I think he feels that eventually I'll run out of excuses to decline his dates and just cave. He's right and wrong at the same time. I will run out of excuses…I just plan on reusing them until he gets the picture.

_Maybe I could use the thing about needing to wash my hair again…_

_My goldfish needs a bath._

_I have to alphabetically file my books by author, year, and genre._

_My UTI is acting up, I need to see my doctor._

_I really need to think about this whole lesbianism thing because my neighbor thinks I'm hot and I think I might reciprocate her feelings._

_I would love to go on a date with you Mike, but unfortunately I don't think it's a good idea for my digestive system. I seem to always feel the need to vomit around you, so clearly dinner is out._

_I'm pregnant...with my gay best friend's child...and we have Lamaze class this weekend._

"Hey, Mike. What's going on?"

_Game._

"Well, Bella, I was thinking, I've got these tickets to a play tonight and I was wondering if you wanted to go with me. We could have dinner and just relax, you know, get to know each other better…"

"Mike, you know I have another job. I have to work tonight. I'm really sorry but it's so last minute."

I didn't really have to work tonight but I did tell Henry I might show up to help. Mike didn't need to know that though. He didn't look deterred in the least. Dammit.

"Well the play isn't until later on tonight, surely you would be off work by then?"

"Well the thing is, the museum's having a special exhibit tonight and they're keeping us late to help straighten up and we also have a group meeting. I don't know when I'd be able to leave."

_Set._

I stared intently at his face. He's lost. He knows it. He glances down and nods his head silently.

"Alright well, sorry about that then, just thought we might have some fun outside of work."

_Match._

"No, I'm sorry Mike, why don't you ask Jessica? She would love to see a play. And between you and me…I've seen the looks she's been giving you. She likes you, Mike. You should ask her out. She's just really shy."

He nods again and I have to literally frown to keep from smiling. No need to rub it in his face.

When my bag of crackers is gone and I'm shaking the can of Sprite over my open mouth for the last few drops of sugar, I know I'm pushing my break time.

It's back to the stacks that I used to love so much. It's back to answering insipidly stupid questions by mentally challenged college students. It's back to doing the same fucking thing I do every goddamn day.

I wonder if anyone would miss me for ten more minutes while I snuck a smoke.

The rest of my shift goes by in a mind numbing blur. I can maybe recall half an hour of it if I try. The rest I believe is being repressed or my brain has deemed that time too unimportant to catalogue for future reference.

Once I'm home I change quickly and head for the gym down the street. It's a small hole in the wall place where most of the machinery is falling apart or outdated. No one really comes here for the exercise equipment anyway. There are generally a few other people here this late in the afternoon and it's all guys either in their late fifties or early twenties. They usually take up the section with all the mirrors and weights.

I generally keep to three machines and I'm so attached to them that I'll actually wait to use them if they're already taken. I go about an hour on the elliptical machine and then walk three miles on the treadmill. I run another two, cool down, get on the bike, do five miles on a steep incline, and then I'm done. I don't bother with the weights because I have an irrational fear of developing huge muscles. Also, there's a female body builder who shows up occasionally and she's looks frightening. Maybe that's where the fear comes from?

Again I blink and it's like the walk home never happened. I'm just standing there in my living room, sweating, aching, and numb.

A minute later and I'm in my shower, leaning against the tiles as the water beats down on my chest. I blink and I'm in my bedroom, dressed in soft sweats and a t-shirt.

My hair drips on my arms as I stare at the laptop on my rickety green desk. The little power button is pulsing orange, letting me know it's on, but idle. I take a deep soothing breath before plopping down in the metal folding chair and randomly tapping a few keys to wake it up.

I'm going to check my e-mail, write back to any I need to, and then log off. I'm going to check my email, write back, and then…log off.

Of course as my desktop loads, it's a barren wasteland and I can almost remember how my twenty-inch flat screen computer monitor that I had in Forks was always littered with icons. I can remember the gigantic tower I built with clear Plexiglas walls, a state of the art motherboard, too much memory and it's build in terabyte of storage space. It was beautiful. I even had little LED lights inside that went off randomly. It was like a little computer Christmas tree. I was so proud of that thing. I was going to add another 130 gigs of storage and four more gigs of memory before Charlie…

Sighing, I tap out my e-mail handle and password, watching as Gmail loads in a flash. I flick my eyes over the subjects and delete most of them without even reading. Half are from Mike anyway.

I open the pictures that Billy has sent me of him and my father fishing. It's the only contact I have with Charlie now since I left Forks three years ago. I peruse the other e-mails from old contacts and friends that I had met online. It was tempting, oh so tempting to get back into the habits I had developed in my 'youth'. But I resisted. I deleted them and tried to convince myself that I didn't just commit their handles to memory in case I should need them again.

That was something 'old Bella' would have done. That was something 'felon Bella' would have done.

I am 'new Bella' now. And apparently 'new Bella' enjoyed partitioning herself into old and new because she's been alone too long, living a boring ass life, with no friends, no goals, and no excitement.

She's thinking about herself in the third person now because she's officially losing her fucking mind.

Grunting, I click 'empty trash', log out, and lean back against the chair. The sky outside is now gray and thunderous. I should go to the museum and actually help like I said I might. I should keep myself busy and away from my too quiet apartment, my too dull life, my fucked up past that seemed to invade my every thought when I wasn't subjecting myself to mindless tasks.

Instead, I curl up on my side in bed and watch as the rain pelts against my window and think about how this would be normal in Forks. The rain that I had hated was now comforting me in this city that had adopted me. The rain that had driven me mad my first few months in Charlie's house was now pattering a soothing staccato into my bare bedroom.

My chest became heavy and my throat tightened as silent tears blurred my vision. I could feel them tickling my skin as they slid down the sides of my eyes and onto my scalp.

I blinked again and my alarm was going off.

Sunday…

A full day of no work.

I sit up in bed and the glowing orange light beckons my attention. I stare at it blankly and a dull ache in the back of my head urges me to go to it. Like a charmer calling a snake from a basket, I rise and take hesitant steps to the dilapidated desk.

Just as my finger hovers over the keys my cell phone rings, snapping me out of my trance.

I yank my hand back and take a deep breath, turning and rooting the trilling phone out of my messenger bag.

"Hello?"

"I'm at the diner. I'll give you ten minutes to get ready and ten to get here."

He hangs up before I can reply and I scowl at the phone in my hands.

Asshole.

Within a few blinks of my seemingly lazy mind I'm standing in front of the diner. I can see the back of his head through the large windows. The last real connection I have with my past all packaged up in a six-foot seven inch frame. The door bell chimes when I enter and the smells of coffee and breakfast assault my senses. It's hot and humid in here as opposed to the cold wetness outside.

"You're five minutes late. I was about to call again or leave."

"You are such an asshole."

"But you love me. We're going out tonight. Wear something trashy and skanky. I'll pick you up at nine."

"First of all, I don't love you anymore. Second of all, we're not going out tonight. Thirdly, I don't _own_anything trashy or skanky. If I did, I still wouldn't wear it.

"You have to come out with me tonight. It's non-negotiable. I met a girl in my history class and she's fucking hot, Bells. Hot. Like D-cup, smokin' ass and tiny waist. I'm overlooking the fact that she's blonde right now because of the ass-to-tits ratio she is not lacking in. And I'm almost positive they're real."

"Her tits or her ass?"

"Her tits you idiot!"

"Well, you have fun with her. I'm staying home."

"Please? She said she'd go out if it wasn't a date."

"If it's not a date you won't be getting lucky anyway. No."

"Bells, I moved all the way across the country for you…"

"Hold the phone. No, you moved all the way across the country for_you._ Don't sit there and make me your reason for all this. I'm not saying I don't appreciate you here but give me a break, Jake."

He rolls his eyes, and I put in an order for a cup of coffee and some toast. We chat idly about things before I feel the tension coming off him. He's going to mention Charlie. I already know it from how his eyes have hardened.

"Charlie called me the other night. He's officially dating Sue now. He asked me about you. Wanted to know if you're still…"

"Still what? Still in New York? Still working at the library and museum? Still living alone? Still not touching any piece of technology unless I have to? What Jake, spit it out."

"You need to talk to him, Bells. You both need to just sit down and talk."

"I've tried. Don't fucking talk to me like _I _haven't tried to talk to him. He refuses to believe anything I say…"

"And can you blame him? After what happened…I mean, shit, don't get me wrong. You know I love you and I'm not going to harp on what happened. It's in the past and I get that he's not letting it go, but it's got to stop sometime. He loves you despite what happened, you just need to make him realize that you made a mistake and it's never going to happen again. I mean it was a fluke that it happened the first time. Now that you're not in contact with all those other people, you're fine."

He trailed off with a chuckle then began on some other random topic in what I can only assume is an attempt at diffusing the awkward atmosphere but I'm frozen on his last statement.

_I mean it was a fluke that it happened the first time._

Which roughly translates into 'No one really believes you could have pulled that off yourself.'

_Now that you're not in contact with all those other people, you're fine._

…_All those other people…_

"You know what? I'm tired of people acting like I was used in some huge conspiracy. I'm tired of being put down. I'm tired of it. I knew what I was doing. I _am_ smart enough to pull it off. I wasn't the one who caved and talked to the feds. It would have gone off without a hitch if that hadn't happened. I was fucking brilliant at what I did. I could do it now if I wanted to but I don't because I know it was wrong. Fuck, I _knew_ it was wrong when I did it. But everyone treating me like some stupid little girl is really wearing on me. Maybe that's why I don't want to go back. Maybe that's the problem with me and Charlie, and now you. You all think I'm not smart enough. Well, fuck you Jake and you can pass that message along to Charlie. I _am_ smart enough. I'm also very fucking done with trying to be somebody I'm not."

I was going for a righteous exit. I was going to get up out of this booth and storm out of the diner and leave in a big huff of indignation. That would teach him.

Except, this is me. My life is never as rewarding as I would want for it to be, so of course my coat catches on the side of the booth and yanks me back forcefully before I can unhook myself. Then I get to the door before realizing I've left my purse on the table, so I have to go back and grab it. Finally, I'm out on the street and stomping to the bus stop.

A few blinks and five blocks later and I'm back at my apartment. I stop at the doorway and drop my bag and keys on the floor, not bothering to move toward the small table only a few feet to my left and depositing them there. For the first time in a long time, I look around at the life I've made for myself here and the only word I can seem to use to sum up my current existence is 'barely'.

I am _barely_ living. I am _barely_existing. I have _barely_enough furniture and _barely_ enough space. I have _barely_ enough will to keep doing this.

One second-hand couch, one beat-up coffee table, one sixteen-inch TV, a threadbare, fugly ass rug and curtains that let in too much sunlight. I know that if I go in the kitchen I'll see one frying pan, one pot, a barren fridge and no table at all to sit at to eat.

I blink and I'm in my bedroom trailing my fingers over a banged up dresser, looking at my plain, full sized bed with its ordinary purple comforter and generic pillow cases. My nightstand is a fold up TV dinner table.

With an exaggerated sigh I begin to strip off my clothes and put on my ratty 'feel better' sweats before plopping down on my bed and pulling out… _The 7 Habit's of Highly Effective People?_ When the fuck did I get this?

Flipping open the cover I see Jake's messy writing.

"_Try it before you knock it."_

I snorted and threw the book across the room. So much for that. Asshole.

I am just _barely_ hanging onto my sanity when sleep takes me away in the blink of an eye.

* * *

**AN:**

Would have updated sooner. But I had a two day drive to TX.

Who wants to meet Edward? He's next.

_Leave Me Some Love..._


End file.
